


Belonging

by sakurahaiku



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Introspection, No Dialogue, no beta we die like men, yonghoon loves his members
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25502842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurahaiku/pseuds/sakurahaiku
Summary: If you had told Yonghoon that he was going to end up in a band full of children years younger than him, he wouldn’t have believed you.If you had then told Yonghoon that he was also going to end up with a brother group with six other kids, he definitely wouldn’t have believed you.(Of course, he finds that he doesn’t mind.)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 97





	Belonging

**Author's Note:**

> This took me literal months to write, so enjoy

If you had told Yonghoon that he was going to end up in a band full of children years younger than him, he wouldn’t have believed you. It was not a situation that he had ever imagined. Sure, should he have ended up in an agency it was always a possibility, but not one that had ever crossed his mind. So, when he finds himself, self-assured and fully grown, willingly joining a band with high schoolers and middle schoolers, it’s somewhat of a shock.

He also finds that he doesn’t mind.

If his members had been completely green and completely reliant on him for everything, perhaps it would have been a different situation; perhaps he wouldn’t have stayed to teach them. The kids, however, are talented and confident, and only want him because he can deliver the type of vocals that they cannot provide for themselves. The kids have already found themselves with a reputation for quality and raw aptitude, they don’t need him to show them anything to do with music. They don’t even need him to lead them. They just want him to sing.

Perhaps, that’s why he agrees; they don’t need him for anything more than he can provide upfront. It’s a straightforward transaction. They’ll play instruments and Yonghoon will sing. It’s a simple agreement.

* * *

They all become comfortable with him in their own ways, in their own time. Harin is the quickest, the friendliest. He’s loud and easy to converse with the older man. The boy is different from Yonghoon, he doesn’t crave the spotlight in the same way that the elder does. He’s content sitting in the back on the drums.

Even as the high schooler grows into a man, Yonghoon treasures the kid. Harin is strong and dependable, even more so as he matures. He’s the type that Yonghoon can just let everything out to, and Harin will be there with an ear to listen and a laugh to calm the soul. Underneath the chaos and the jokes, Harin has a spirit that aims to help, to nurture. He cooks and he cleans and he places his head on Yonghoon’s shoulders when Yonghoon is particularly stressed.

In this way, Harin needs no words. He just seems to understand what’s going on around him, how volatile the feelings of others can be. Yet – and Yonghoon admires this greatly – Harin remains steadfast. He’s almost bullheaded in this way, but it only endears the older to the younger even more. Yonghoon imagines Harin as being the oak tree who’s branches provide shelter to the members, who’s roots provide the foundation that they walk on. He grows with them, ever stronger, ever taller. He is the drummer, the heartbeat of the band, and Yonghoon thinks it suits Harin.

It’s calming having a member like Harin on Yonghoon’s side. He’s the one that approaches the older first, the one who asks him to join. Harin is already self-assured, confident in who he is as a person; Yonghoon doesn’t have to hold his hand. In high school, he was already an adult in a teenager’s body, though still awkward, still learning. He’s already on his way though, and Yonghoon had always been happy to watch him flourish, is proud of the man that he has become.

* * *

Giwook is Yonghoon’s angel, was so from the moment Yonghoon laid eyes on him. He’s his _maknae_ , his baby. Giwook is quiet and shy, but his fingers slide down the neck of his bass like a seasoned pro, his voice loses its quiver when he’s on stage. Music and lyrics envelop every inch of Giwook’s being, to the point that he sometimes doesn’t know what to do when he’s not doing it.

Yonghoon learns, to some surprise, that the kid also likes basketball. It’s a little funny, with Giwook being so small to his grown-up mind, but he supposes that Giwook has never been bigger. Giwook is still in middle school, and Yonghoon has to lean down to hug the younger, to support him. Giwook squirms in his arms, his natural reaction to the affection.

As Giwook grows older, he still squirms in Yonghoon’s arms, but the action is more teasing than anything else now. Giwook has learned to lean into the affection, has learned that Yonghoon loves loudly and boldly. Yonghoon watches, tears in his eyes and pride in his heart, as Giwook goes from middle schooler to high schooler to an actual adult. The years move slow for his career, but to Yonghoon it feels that Giwook has grown in the blink of an eye. Yonghoon feels slightly like a mother with a newborn who has the feeling of turning away and sending her child to university.

There are some days where Yonghoon doesn’t want Giwook to grow up. Days where Yonghoon wants to hold Giwook’s hand through life, but he knows that’s not fair to the younger. Giwook deserves to be able to grow and thrive, has to be free to make his own mistakes and path in the world. No matter how much Yonghoon wants to protect him, wants to make sure Giwook never comes into any harm, he also has to allow himself to watch from the side. He has to remind himself that he’s alright with this, that Giwook’s growth is something beautiful.

Yonghoon adores Giwook. He adores his little laughs, the way he pulls his hands into the arms of his sweaters. He watches as a shy boy becomes a confident adult before his eyes. He listens as Giwook’s raps become stronger and clear, his fingers moving even more deftly across the neck of the bass. He’s still small, still soft, and that makes Yonghoon want to lock the child into his heart and keep him safe forever. The child is now a man, however, and Yonghoon feels honoured to be able to watch Giwook fly.

* * *

From the moment he meets Dongmyeong, Yonghoon can’t think of a single one word to describe the kid. The younger is a flurry of moods and action; one second Dongmyeong will be smiling wildly and the next he’ll be glaring at one of the members for something said. His inconsistency, Yonghoon supposes, is the most consistent aspect to the boy. That, and the fierce loyalty he has for his members. He coddles Giwook, antagonizes Yonghoon; pokes fun at Hyungu, laughs into Harin’s chest.

Dongmyeong, however, is indecisive. Not just about his mood but about his life and his future. He jokes with the members that he would rather do trot, jokes that he should become an idol. The days and the years pass, and with each different passage of time Yonghoon wonders how much Dongmyeong’s words are really jokes. He knows that Dongmyeong loves music, loves them, but Yonghoon doesn’t want to be the reason why he stops the younger from becoming everything he is capable.

Perhaps, then, it is a bad dream realized when Dongmyeong gets signed by RBW. Perhaps, then, it’s just the world discovering that Dongmyeong is capable of so much more. The younger sends reports back, tells him that he misses his members, but Yonghoon can read between the lines. He can tell that Dongmyeong loves the boys he’s with now, loves dancing, loves learning this new area of performance. This doesn’t stop Yonghoon from voting for his child when he’s on a competition show, doesn’t stop Yonghoon from crying when he’s subsequently eliminated.

Through all of this, Dongmyeong has never ceased his loyalty to his members, to his band. Somehow, the four members that he had seemingly left behind, are back by his side. The weeks pass, and somehow, they end up on a survival show, and Dongmyeong shines. Dongmyeong shows the audience, the world, why his ability to be an idol is unmatched, that his potential is limitless. Then the show is over, and Dongmyeong makes his choice. Chooses his band. Chooses the friends he’s had for years, the ones who have watched him blossom into an adult. This doesn’t mean he’s decided to leave behind the boys he’s trained with more the past year; they all get to move on together, grow together, shine together.

Yonghoon is in awe of Dongmyeong’s ability to make a choice. Yonghoon is no fool, he knows that a career as an idol will take Dongmyeong further than the band ever will. He knows that this decision wouldn’t have come easily to Dongmyeong, yet the younger seems to have made his choice with ease, as if there was nothing to think about. Dongmyeong is not a child who shows affection easily, Yonghoon knows this, but when they’re in their dorm and Dongmyeong allows his head to fall to Yonghoon’s shoulder, it feels rare. It feels like Dongmyeong is putting all his trust in Yonghoon, and Yonghoon is determined to show the younger that the result of this difficult choice wasn’t in vain. A few years pass like this, and Dongmyeong shows no sign of wavering in his choice.

Yonghoon didn’t think he would.

* * *

Hyungu is the last of them to open up to Yonghoon. It’s not as though Hyungu is mistrusting of the older, at least not in particular, he’s just quiet. He stares at Yonghoon with deep, curious eyes, and it makes Yonghoon want to pry open his skull, dive in the depths of the younger’s mind. In those early days, Yonghoon would have done anything to gain the younger’s confidence. He could see that there was so much going on inside Hyungu’s thoughts; he wondered what it would take to grow closer to the boy, wondered if he kept holding out his hand if Hyungu would eventually grasp on to it.

Yonghoon quickly catches on to how much talent truly lies in the boy. Hyungu shies away from words like ‘prodigy’ and ‘genius’, but Yonghoon discovers that it’s difficult to find another word to describe just how talented the guitarist is. Yonghoon watches as Hyungu deftly moves his fingers across the strings; even just tuning and practicing and goofing around the sounds coming from the instrument start to sound like a symphony to Yonghoon. All of the members are talented and gifted, but there’s something about Hyungu that Yonghoon can’t quite put his finger on. Even the lyrics he writes read like poetry, and Yonghoon is beyond impressed.

Despite being quiet, there’s a certain leadership to Hyungu that is undeniable. He’ll sit back and listen to the chaos surrounding him, interjecting only when necessary, will guide the members back to whatever they need to be doing. He’s never cruel, never malicious; when he chooses to speak there’s a power to it. Yonghoon can see that there’s a spirit inside the boy that’s ready to burst, but Hyungu is still young; Hyungu, in many ways, is afraid of the world.

Slowly, very slowly, Hyungu begins to expect Yonghoon. When Yonghoon reaches out there’s sometimes a hand reaching out to him three quarters of the way there, sometimes even halfway. Yonghoon can feel the change in the atmosphere between them. Where originally there was trepidation and caution in the boy’s eyes, a look of respect is forming. Slowly, very slowly, Hyungu is coming to Yonghoon with his issues, asking the older to read lyrics. Yonghoon is touched.

Hyungu grows older, but he remains steadfast. He is taller, his face grows sharper with age, but his smile grows wider, his voice louder. When they switch companies and Yonghoon is officially given the leader title, Hyungu takes it all in stride. For as much leadership as the boy possess, he is also on a constant state of stress. He is more than happy to let Yonghoon take the reins from here. The change is natural, painless. Yonghoon watches the weight lift off Hyungu’s shoulders; he knows that he’s going to watch Hyungu come into his own more seamlessly from here.

In a way, Yonghoon idolizes Hyungu. He’s constantly amazed by the depth of thought that goes on in the younger’s head. No matter how old they grow, Yonghoon wants to understand just how deep the ocean of Hyungu’s mind. With every passing day, Yonghoon finds he’s a little bit closer to understanding. With every passing day, Hyungu reaches for him more, trusts him more. And Yonghoon is honoured to have been chosen by someone so special.

* * *

Dongju is an interesting case. Always around, always present, but never quite being there. He’s someone who’s always three steps behind them on purpose, watching from behind the scenes. Comes to every performance, knows every word to every single one of their songs. He’s the smiling face in the crowd every time, no matter how big or small. Yet, despite his constant presence, Dongju is an enigma that Yonghoon cannot seem to crack.

He imagines that it’s not easy being Dongmyeong’s twin. Dongju is the younger of the two, quieter, a little more unsure. The complete opposite of the loud, self-confident image of Dongmyeong that Yonghoon has learned to adore. Yonghoon appreciates Dongju’s presence, no matter how quiet or unsure he may be, but the elder wants desperately to help the younger break out of his shell.

When Dongmyeong starts to become more popular, going on television, appears as a prominent trainee in a major company, Yonghoon’s thoughts turn to Dongju. With the keyboardist heading down a different path (for that moment), the younger twin keeps his distance. Sometimes Dongju will appear quickly at minor events, quickly to talk to Giwook and congratulate the band, but otherwise he remains as much as an enigma as ever. Yonghoon wants to snatch him up, cuddle him until the younger giggles, break down all the walls so that Dongju can become surer of himself.

Yonghoon wouldn’t get the chance to see the younger’s growth until Dongju himself enters the RBW training program. Quiet, awkward, unsure Dongju who had always said he was going to be an actor. Yonghoon was fascinated with the idea of the kid singing and dancing; being an idol seemed so unlike Dongju’s personality. There were, Yonghoon supposed, stranger things that could happen. He was surprised with the development, but was determined to support the younger no matter what.

Dongju is put in the debut group, and Yonghoon gets to watch him thrive. Everyone in their joint MAS and RBW Boyz groups knew Dongmyeong better, met him first, but that doesn’t stop Dongju from capturing the hearts of his new members. Yonghoon watches in glee as he’s pampered and coddled by the older members of RBW Boyz. There’s only a moment of concern where Yonghoon fears that Dongmyeong might grow jealous that the hyungs that once doted on him now cuddle his brother, but the keyboardist doesn’t seem upset in the slightest; Dongmyeong, actually, seems to be overjoyed at the development. Like so many of Yonghoon’s anxieties, he had worried for nothing.

With every growing day Yonghoon grows ever more impressed with Dongju and his growth. It can’t be easy for the younger, being thrust onto the stage in a way he has never before. There’s a pride that grows in Yonghoon’s chest as he watches Dongju master a new dance step, sing more confidently then he had a day before. And then Yonghoon is watching from the crowd as Dongju makes his debut, and Yonghoon is reminded of a younger child watching him from the audience mere years before. The emotion is so great that Yonghoon feels like crying.

* * *

When the band joins up with Dongmyeong at RBW, it feels like Keonhee is the welcoming committee. The boy is bright, cheerful, and loud, and Yonghoon feels an instant kinship with the younger kid. He always seems to be within arms distance away, easy to pull into a hug. So unlike his own members who try to shy away from his affection, Yonghoon thinks. It makes him want to pull Keonhee into an embrace and keep him there forever.

Keonhee is the RBW Boyz member that Yonghoon is most familiar, if only because of the younger boy’s television career. The moment Dongmyeong had announced he was going on a survival show, Yonghoon had decided to watch from beginning to end, confident that Dongmyeong would make it through to the end. In actuality, his keyboardist is among the first to leave the program, and it’s Keonhee that survives the longest from the company. Yonghoon watches in awe as this boy, still unknown to him personally, battles his stage fright and nerves and allows his voice to soar. Keonhee’s singing makes Yonghoon want to sing a million duets with the younger.

Yonghoon is beyond thrilled to learn that, with Keonhee, what you see is often what you get. His personality off-television is just as effervescent as he had hoped, and Keonhee quickly becomes close with his new _hyung_. It’s like the meeting of two kindred spirits. Suddenly Yonghoon has someone next to him who’s also easy to startle and cry, another vocalist who’s lanky and tall. Keonhee’s smile and enthusiasm is contagious; Yonghoon wants to bask in it forever.

In many ways, for Yonghoon, Keonhee’s evolution from an awkward pre-debut celebrity to a fully-fledged idol is small, almost not noticeable. He’s sure that for Keonhee the difference between point a to point b feels like he’s had to climb over mountains and sailed the seas. For Yonghoon though, Keonhee is just so effortlessly himself, so beautifully _Keonhee_ , that as long as the essence remains every other change is almost inconsequential. Whatever changes Keonhee had to make in order to allow the easiest transition to public life pales in comparison to the sun that is him.

In a way, Yonghoon is jealous of Keonhee’s ability to be so true to himself. It’s a true testament to his character and the strength he must have in himself. There are some days where Yonghoon wishes he had half the power of spirit that Keonhee possesses. In the end, he decides, that there’s no use wishing for the traits of another. And then Yonghoon can go back to teasing the younger, delighting in the squeaks and yelps that can only be achieved by a true main vocal. He loves that he’s met Keonhee, and he hopes that the other can live life without worry and fear and can just continue being Keonhee.

* * *

Yonghoon wants to scoop Hwanwoong up in his arms immediately upon meeting him. The younger is so small, so cute, wearing a smile that brightly matches Keonhee’s. Hwanwoong is friendly, welcoming, excited to become friends with the band. Yonghoon, however, can sense the fight and drive within the boy; he’s more than just bright smiles. Hwanwoong is serious and intense, and those feelings seep out of him in his every movement.

If there’s one thing that can be said, it’s that Yonghoon is a bit jealous of Hwanwoong. Yonghoon tries to be modest, but he knows that he’s talented at singing; he may not have gone down the rough road of being a musician if he didn’t think he had the skill to back himself up. Hwanwoong, however, seems to have been gifted by some God or another. Hwanwoong dances circles around all of them, has a pleasing and strong singing voice, he can even handle some of the rap parts in his practice songs. And to top it off he has to be good looking and kind as well. Hwanwoong is more than a little unfair as a person, Yonghoon thinks.

He still wants to pick up the smaller boy and cuddle him though, so maybe Yonghoon isn’t as jealous as he sometimes thinks he is.

Hwanwoong grows close to the band, and as the months pass by it’s like he he’s been there for the past few years with them. He helps them learn how to dance, and he’s sometimes more patient and understanding then their actual teachers. He helps them through step by step, patiently walking them through more difficult movements. They’re all terrible dancers, Yonghoon can’t deny it. Dongmyeong is a little more secure in his movements, having been trained in dancing for the past few months, but the rest of them border on hopeless sometimes. Even though Yonghoon once went through conventional idol training, it’s been years since then, and his body struggles to remember. Regardless, Hwanwoong walks them through their basic choreography, handing out helpful tips and words of encouragement.

Yonghoon wants to help Hwanwoong out somehow, be there for him in some way. He struggles to find a place where he fits in, however, where he can give advice and love he does. It comes in vocal tips, comforting hugs if the two of them find themselves alone together. The moments are sadly few and far between, as if they live completely separated lives, but Yonghoon tries to jump from his bubble into Hwanwoong’s. as often as he can. When he does, Hwanwoong complains, but the depth of them are shallow; his complaints are playful, akin to brotherly annoyance masking fondness. Hwanwoong’s voice is high-pitched and whiny with his faux-protests, and the sound of it is melodious to Yonghoon’s ears.

When ONEUS gets to debut, Yonghoon watches with stars in his eyes. He watches Hwanwoong shine with his signature confidence, unfair as always. Yonghoon beams with pride though. He watched his smallest _dongsaeng_ practice moves over and over, finding fault where Yonghoon observed only perfection. After all that practice, Hwanwoong has deserved his faultless debut, with everyone watching him gleam.

* * *

Seoho is the hardest to get through to, the hardest nut to crack. He’s not mean or rude or anything else besides welcoming and friendly, yet he keeps at a distance. It both intrigues and concerns Yonghoon.; intrigues because it makes his desire to get to know the other grow even more, concerns because they’re meant to be on the same team and side. Yonghoon doesn’t want things to grow uncomfortable between the two parts of a whole because of this. Yonghoon wants desperately to bridge that gap between them, show Seoho that he’s someone on whom he can rely on.

At first Yonghoon thinks Seoho’s distance is because of Dongmyeong. When moving to RBW, Yonghoon hadn’t considered the implications of taking the keyboardist away from the members he had been gifted at the company. As much as Yonghoon loved Dongmyeong, knew how much he meant to the band, the kid was also the _maknae_ to another group. What Yonghoon doesn’t want is for Seoho to think he’s taking Dongmyeong back and away from him; Seoho’s affection for Dongmyeong doesn’t have to end because the band is in the picture. As the days roll by, however, it seems that Seoho isn’t concerned with Dongmyeong being moved to the periphery of his pre-debut life. It makes Yonghoon go back to the drawing board, wrack his brain once more to find a reason for Seoho’s distance.

His second thought is that Seoho is unhappy with his title of oldest member being taken away from him. That explanation never sat right with Yonghoon though, and he’s happy to be proven wrong. When RBW Boyz are joined by a new member, Youngjo, who’s older than Seoho by a year, Seoho seems almost happy to no longer be the oldest on his own team. It’s an interesting insight into Seoho, to see him be so calm over the change. It makes Yonghoon want to know him even more.

Gradually, step by step, Seoho looks for Yonghoon, and the older learns about the younger. It starts with questions about singing, then grows into inquiries about feeling confident on stage, until finally they are talking like equals. The distance hadn’t been out of any malice, or any distaste on Seoho’s part; Seoho simply needs to take his time to bring people into his heart. Yonghoon is reminded of Hyungu, and he chides himself for not recognizing the similar pattern of behaviour. With this revelation, Yonghoon is able to treat Seoho the way the younger deserves to be treated, and Seoho opens up in return.

And then, suddenly, Yonghoon is able to see so much more in the other. He’s able to see the desire to perform better and better, the fear that he’ll never be able to shine beside his glowing and brilliant members. The teasing care that he piles onto the younger kids, including those in the band. It makes Yonghoon smile with brotherly fondness, makes him want to take Seoho’s hand and show him how wonderful he really is. One day, Seoho will feel comfortable enough to allow Yonghoon to do that.

Until then, Yonghoon feels satisfied with every step they take forward together as a pair. All he wants is for Seoho to understand that he’s always there for him, for every stumble and every soar. He feels satisfied in knowing that their relationship grows more every day, continuously blossoms until something more than beautiful, into something strong. He’s grateful that Seoho is reminding him to be patient with others to really allow a solid friendship to foster and shine.

* * *

Yonghoon loves Youngjo immediately. There is no pause, no moment of unsureness; Yonghoon is sure about Youngjo at first glance, and Youngjo is just as sure about Yonghoon in return. It takes only a look and Yonghoon feels as if he’s found a brother that he had lost. They smile the same, love their younger members fiercely. There’s no question about where they stand with one another from the very beginning.

Perhaps it’s because they’re so close in age, but Yonghoon feels like he has someone he can turn to at any moment.

It’s not that Yonghoon can’t talk to his own members about his issues. The kids listen intently in their own ways, and are always eager to make sure their oldest member is always feeling one hundred percent. There’s something, however, that stops Yonghoon from bearing all his burdens onto his kids. There’s the unspoken agreement that he’ll take care of them, love them until they burst. It feels unfair to ask them to take on that same weight for him, no matter how willing they are to help.

Youngjo provides something new and needed for Yonghoon in this way. Like him, Youngjo becomes the oldest brother of his own team, a pseudo parental figure when push comes to shove. There’s a quiet, implicit understanding between the two of them that they will always make time for one another to hear out each other’s grievances. It’s because Youngjo also feels guilty for giving too much of his burden to his own team that this is possible. Perhaps it would be healthier for them both if they could express their own worries to their members, but, for now, this works for them both.

Yonghoon is aware, however, that he’s still the older of the two of them. And, while Youngjo looks at everyone with a soft gaze of fondness, he looks at Yonghoon like he’s the strongest pillar of his life. Yonghoon isn’t sure he can handle the pressure, but for Youngjo he’s willing to try. Anything to keep the sunshine in the younger’s eyes alive and shining.

In the end, Youngjo is also Yonghoon’s child, his responsibility. But Youngjo is, on the other side of the coin, also Yonghoon’s strength. Without Youngjo to lean on in times of trouble, Yonghoon feels like he may fall apart and crumble. Yonghoon doesn’t know how to thank Youngjo for that, but he’s willing to spend every day trying to convey that to his younger brother, his close friend.

* * *

Geonhak is the last to join them, and he makes Yonghoon’s heart break. There’s no denying the kid’s talent, his passion for his art, but there’s a fear in Geonhak that Yonghoon wants nothing but to remedy. He’s so openly shy, but it’s the anxiety that seeps out of him like a perfume that worries the older the most. The kid had been hurt, had had his dreams crushed and torn apart; it’s hard to mend something that is almost determined to stay broken

It takes baby steps, and more love than Yonghoon can give, to fix the shattered pieces of Geonhak’s hopes and dreams. Luckily, Yonghoon isn’t in this alone, and it’s heartwarming to see how the ten of them band together to glue Geonhak back together again. There’s an unsaid understanding that it may take longer than expected to show Geonhak that good things can still happen to him, and there’s a fear that Geonhak will debut feeling as if he’s on uneven ground. Even with all that, they all still want to work together to show him that the floor won’t disappear from beneath his feet.

Youngjo is quick with praise, always there to provide affection. Seoho teases, shows his love in his own way. Hwanwoong dances side by side with him, talks about how nice it is that someone can keep up with him. Keonhee cuddles and smiles, provides as much of his heart as he can spare. Yonghoon watches with near tears in his eyes as Geonhak awkwardly accepts the care.

The band helps in their own way. Giwook makes it his personal mission to record as many songs with him as possible, having been infatuated by Geonhak’s deep voice from their first introduction. Harin and Geonhak develop a kinship quickly, becoming gym partners. Hyungu, always quiet, shyly asks Geonhak for advice on dancing. Dongmyeong annoys the older, bringing a daily dose of sunshine to the older. And Yonghoon covers Geonhak with warmth, provides a safe place for Geonhak to breathe. He revels in seeing Geonhak visibly relax around them.

It ends up being Dongju who crawls his way the furthest into Geonhak’s heart. They bond over shared imposter syndrome, and Yonghoon learns that something heartwarming can grow from something inherently sad. Dongju pulls at all of Geonhak’s frayed edges, and it seems to result in Geonhak showering Dongju in all his love. It’s something beautiful, Yonghoon decides. Dongju had lived many years in a shadow and Geonhak had been pushed to the side too many times; it’s glorious that they are able to find something within all that darkness, and they are able to be the other’s wings with which to fly.

When Geonhak is able to stand firmly on stage, is able to accept that he has earned this opportunity, has deserved it, Yonghoon feels a sense of accomplishment. No matter how small of a role he played in Geonhak coming into himself, he feels pride that he was able to help the younger somehow. And when Yonghoon hugs Geonhak, and is able to feel the other confidently accept the affection, his heart glows. He couldn’t possibly love this boy any more, but he was willing to try to coax his heart to grow even larger.

* * *

If you had told Yonghoon that he was going to end up in a band full of children years younger than him, he wouldn’t have believed you. The idea wasn’t something that had ever popped into his head. In an agency, he likely would have ended up with members close in age to him. Not a group of children, no matter how confident and talented they are; he never had imagined it.

If you had then told Yonghoon that he was also going to end up with a brother group with six other kids, he definitely wouldn’t have believed you. He felt too young at heart to be the oldest of a large group. This idea would have been even more shocking then his band. It would never had mattered how self-assured and brilliant these kids were; the idea was too strange to imagine.

Of course, he finds that he doesn’t mind. He loves them all with all his heart; would do anything for them.

Somehow, against all the impossibilities, he ends up where he belongs, with ten children to nurture and love.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic! It took me way too long to write, and I had to stop while writing Hyungu's part because I got too emotional, but it's finally done. 
> 
> If anyone wants to follow me on twitter my account is @sakurahaiku. I don't know how to embed the link down here and I'm too tired and lazy to try to remember the HTML I learned in 2007 to achieve this minor technological feat.


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